For the Lord Loveth Judgement
by CelestialTravesty
Summary: The Boys are in jail. Smecker and Bloom are on the run. Dolly and Duffy are barely hanging on. All are tired, weary and downhearted. But do they still have the fortitude, the depth of faith, to go as far as needed?
1. Planning Begins

"For the LORD loveth judgment, and forsaketh not his saints; they are preserved for ever: but the seed of the wicked shall be cut off." – Psalm 37:28

Life hardly ever worked out the way it was supposed to. If life went as planned, Eunice Bloom would be safe in her bed in Boston. She'd be getting ready to get some sleep before returning to the FBI office. Life would be the same. Easy. But, as we all know, life never goes according to plan. Instead, former Special Agent Bloom was riding in a rather small, rather smelly dingy with a man who, by all other accounts, was dead and buried. She had to smile to herself, though. If anyone could fake their own death and actually succeed, it would be Paul.

Paul Smecker. That sneaky old son of a bitch. She reached out a hand and poked his shoulder, trying to overcome the overbearing belief in her head that he was dead and this was all a dream.

"What the fuck was that for?" Paul turned to face her while keeping one hand rested on the motor.

"Just trying to believe you're really here and not back in Boston, pushin up daisies."

"Believe it, honey." He flashed his signature smirk. Eunice always thought he was attractive. Too bad he was about as straight as a wet noodle. He lifted his other hand and pointed off into the distance. Eunice followed his direction and found herself staring at a shoreline. She assumed this was the monastery the Father had talked about earlier. As if reading her mind, Paul addressed her.

"There it is. Our secret hideaway. See that man on the shoreline? That's Father Morrison. He'll be helping us with our endeavors from here on out."

"How long have you been working on this, you sneaky bastard?"

"Since I metaphorically kicked the bucket, sweetheart. I've been hard at work planning their next move. And then that piss-head Yakaveta got in the way and totally fucked up the whole thing."

Eunice just shook her head and smiled. This was the Paul she loved and missed. Things were about to look up for the both of them.

"Alright Paul. Let's get to work. I want my boys out of there as soon as possible. Who knows what could be happening in that place right now."

"Oh, stop your fussing. Those boys are the biggest hard-asses around. Plus I'm thoroughly convinced that the good Lord Himself is on their side. It's the other poor bastards in that place that you should be worrying about."

"You boys want to go out for yard time, or stay here in the medical bay?" John really didn't want to ask, but he had to. He could only pray that they would choose to stay. He knew that once they stepped out on that pavement, the whole world as he knew it would go to shit.

Connor glanced at Murphy, who shook his head. "No thanks, Johnny-boy. We're not planning on leavin' for a while now." Connor knew it was true. As long as Romeo was in a coma, Murph wouldn't leave his side. That was his favorite part about his brother, though. The pure loyalty he showed. Plus, he wouldn't want to do that to poor John. He was a good lad, and if they left things would get fucked. Maybe when that bastard Chris was on duty…

"Okay. Let me know if you guys need anything, Connor." With that, he stepped outside. John knew that these were okay guys. He was actually a big supporter back when they first started out. He knew he could leave them alone in there without any problems.

"Murph, I know you're worried 'bout Rom, but we gotta get outta this room. We're gonna go crazy."

Murphy just looked up at his brother. "I'm not fuckin leavin 'til he wakes up." No one held the guilt like Murph. After Rocco died, it took him months to fully accept it. He always blamed himself. Now his friends as well as his father were dead. He couldn't lose Rom too.

"Well, seeing as how were alone and gonna be here for a bit, what say we start talkin 'bout getting outta here?" This got Murphy's attention. He got up and sat on the bed next to his brother.

"I'm not gonna lie to ya, Connor. We're fucked. How are we gonna get outta this one?"

"Well, we gotta assume that no one on the outside's comin ta help. Dolly and Duffy are probably in shit of their own, and Bloom's gotta be half-way 'round the world by now."

"If only we had some fuckin' rope." Murphy laughed as Connor hit him upside the head. They both shared a smile.

"Don't question the rope. It's worked like a charm both times. Do ya think we can get our hands on some in here?" Murphy covered his eyes and shook his head. Another brilliant plan that was going to go to shit, courtesy of Connor MacManus.

"Okay, seriously. What do ya think we should do? John-boy over there seems like a good guy. Think we can turn him?"

"Nah, I don't wanna risk it. 'sides, he's got a family. We can't guarantee that this will roll off his back. Remember Dolly, Duffy and Greenly? They shit their pants when they thought we were back. We can't do that to someone else."

"Yeah, you're right. Well, that leaves us up a river without a fuckin' paddle, don't it? I say we wait for Rom. Once he's up, we can plan our next move. Don't tell the bastard I said this, but he's got some pretty fuckin good ideas. Better than your shit plans anyway."

"Hey, watch your fuckin mouth! Each one got the job done, didn't it?" Connor grabbed the pillow from the bed and started hittin Murphy in the head with it. They stopped suddenly when John burst through the door, gun up and aimed at their heads.

"What the hell is going….oh. Sorry boys, just got a bit worried. What the hell are you guys doing anyway?" Connor and Murphy just stared at each other for a second. John shook his head and started back out the door. He couldn't help but think that these guys were either geniuses, or just plain fuckin insane.


	2. Skeletons in the Closet

**A/N: Thanks to those of you who have already reviewed. I'm glad I caught your interest. BDS is definitely a big deal to me and I want to try to make it as accurate as possible. If you see something particularly out of character, feel free to let me know! I'm trying to keep their essence while developing other characters a bit more, such as Duffy! (My favorite, just so you know!) Speaking of Duffy, here's chapter 2!**

Duffy stared at the empty shot glass in front of him. This had become a nightly ritual for the detective. Shuffle through the motions at work and then straight to McGinty's to drink himself stupid. Tonight he was trying to decide where the hell he went wrong. He didn't need to think about it too hard. The cause of his current state could be traced back to two young Irish boys, four silenced weapons and a fuckin' rope. He couldn't be sure if he regretted his decision. On one hand, it was the first time in his life he had the balls to step up for what was right and just. On the other hand, so many lives were ruined. Was it worth the price they all paid?

He had to smile at the thought of the boys, though. He missed their late-night drinking sessions, discussions on everything from women to the million reasons why rope is just pure fuckin' necessary. Connor's obsession with rope was always a topic of ridicule for the group. It would usually end up in a short fist-fight between the brothers, but it was nothing a little whiskey couldn't fix. Sometimes they'd get so drunk after that Greenly would try to make out with Duffy, believing he was Special Agent Bloom…

Duffy immediately shook his head as if trying to shake out the memories that haunted him. Greenly is actually what started this late night ritual. Duffy had to find a way to numb the pain and try to forget. He couldn't help but think that it was all his fault. Greenly had wanted to get right back to meet up with the boys for a well-deserved drinking session that night. Eunice and Duffy had tried to dissuade him. They needed to lay low, especially now that Eunice was being investigated herself. But Greenly couldn't be swayed. Duffy called after him one last time and said, "Green-beans! Use your fuckin' head and don't get too pissed. We've got paperwork in the morning and I'm not doin' it all by myself, ya hear?" Greenly just smiled, flipped off his co-worker and continued walking down the street. That was the last time Duffy saw him alive. He had talked about work and called Greenly an idiot. Greenly was one of his best friends on the force. Now he was dead.

His thoughts then drifted to the other members of the group. Dolly probably took the hit the hardest, aside from Bloom, of course. He quit the force, became a recluse. Duffy tried to bring him out of it, but it was like the blind leading the blind. How could someone so messed up himself try to help someone else through the same thing? Last he heard, Dolly was living in some apartment in South Boston, spending the rest of his money on liquor and rent. Duffy couldn't help but smirk. Doesn't that sound familiar?

Eunice was also gone, but for good reason. The FBI was on to her from the get-go. From what Duffy heard, she had been taken into hiding by a friend of the boys. He could only hope they'd keep her safe. The last time he'd seen her, he wasn't even sure if it was her. It was at Greenly's funeral. Duffy was sitting in front with the other boys on the force and a woman with short black hair and ridiculously high heels had come up and stopped in front of the casket. She placed a kiss on her hand and then placed it on Greenly's mouth. She then turned and their eyes met for a split second. She had large dark sunglasses on, but Duffy was almost positive that it was her. Then, as quickly as she had entered the church, she was gone.

"Boy, y-y-you can't keep d-d-doing this to yerself." Duffy looked up into the eyes of Doc. Doc was extremely understanding and usually let Duffy stay the night on a couch upstairs instead of trying to make his way home. "D-d-don't make m-m-me cut you off for good, now. FUCK! ASS!"

"Not tonight, Doc. Just pour me another shot, alright?" Duffy looked up and the old man and Doc almost wanted to break down and cry right there. Duffy's eyes were full of a sadness that Doc would never understand. There was so much pain and so much sorrow, Doc could barely believe the boy was still alive. Any other man would have ended it already.

"Alright, lad. One m-m-more." As Doc moved to grab the bottle, the phone rang. Doc set the bottle back down and moved to answer it. Duffy picked up the bottle and poured himself another shot. He downed it and went to pour another, but stopped to look at the old bartender, who had grown eerily quiet. Doc just stood there, his mouth open.

"Who the f-f-fuck is this?"

Another awkward silence. Duffy was starting to get worried. Then Doc turned to the detective and did something confusing. He handed the phone to Duffy. No explanation of who was on the other line. Duffy tried to compose himself in case it was someone from the precinct. It had become common knowledge that if anyone needed to find him, they should check McGinty's first. On one hand, that was, well… pathetic. On the other hand, he just didn't give a damn.

"Detective Duffy."

"Hey there, Duffy! What's new?"

Duffy froze, letting the phone slide out of his hand and crash against the tile floor. He must have had more to drink than he thought. Before he landed on the ground passed out, one person's name crossed his mind.

Paul Smecker.


	3. Ghosts and God

"Ughhhh... what happened?" Duffy had finally come to. He attempted to open his eyes, but even the dim bar light proved to be too much for him. Doc was knelt by his side trying to help him up.

"Ya f-f-fainted, lad." Doc had thought about calling an ambulence, but he figured that the less attention that was drawn to his bar tonight, the better. "Do ya remember why ya fainted?"

Duffy tried to think. He remembered coming into the bar and taking shot after shot. Then the phone rang... "Holy shit!" He sat straight up. "Did I just talk to Smecker on the phone?"

"Well, I only met th-th-the man once, but I think was him. FUCK! ASS!"

Duffy shook his head. There was no way. No. Fuckin. Way. He was at the funeral. He saw that man's casket lowered into the ground. He remembered because that was the first time he'd ever seen Greenly cry. It was emotional for them all. Smecker was the beginning of this whole thing. Going on without him hadn't seemed right to any of the guys.

"I p-p-picked up the phone after ya fell and he left a number to call him back at. Feel free to use the phone in back." With that, Doc got up and started to clean up the bar. It was way past closing and he needed something to distract him.

Duffy slowly picked himself off the floor, partially because he was still shocked, partially because he was still completely pissed off his rocker. As he made his way to the back room, he contemplated his options. Either he was dreaming or Smecker was still alive. It was a lose-lose situation. If he was dreaming, that meant that he was dreaming about getting drunk and getting calls from dead gay men. Not a comforting thought. If Smecker was still alive and he was calling, things were about to get more dangerous than Duffy was sure he could handle.

He sat down and dialed the number Doc had given him. As the phone rang, he tried to prepare himself for what was about to happen.

"Hello?" Damn, it was a woman. Doc must have messed the number up. Duffy shook his head, hoping that this would be the end of it and Smecker would remain a ghost.

"Sorry, ma'am. I must have the wrong number."

"Well, bless my soul. You came too faster than I thought, Duffy."

And for the second time that night, Duffy fainted.

On the other end, Eunice simply hung up the phone. Obviously Duffy wasn't ready for her either. She glanced over at Paul, who looked like a giddy schoolchild. He was getting way too much pleasure from torturing this man. Eunice slapped him in the arm and started to walk down the hall. Her stiletto heels made a distinct 'click' as they hit the cobblestone floor. It made walking somewhat of a difficult endeavor for her daily, but there was no way in hell she was compromising her exquisite shoe fashion. She heard footsteps following her and assumed it was Paul, coming to do what he did best; make her life hell. However, when she turned, it was Father Corrigan.

"My dear, may I have a word?"

"Of course, Father."

"I do not want to speak out of line, but I must ask. What is it that you are planning to do now."

Eunice searched her mind for the right answer. "Well, Father, I'm not sure I ca-"

"No, my dear, not with the "plan". What are you personally going to do now? You are a beautiful, intelligent woman who will be running from the authorities for the rest of your life. Are you sure that is the path you want to choose?"

She was taken aback. This was the first time that anyone, including herself, had actually thought of what the future could hold for her personally. She knew what was going to happen with the brothers and how she fit in there, but what about life after that? What about after their work is done. She won't be able to live in the United States ever again. Where could she go after this?

"Well, Father... honestly, I'd never thought about that before."

"Perhaps it is something to pray on, Ms. Bloom. Excuse me." And with that, Father Corrigan walked by her. Eunice had a lot to think about. She had never been a religious person, but perhaps now was the time to consider it. After all, the boys were doing the Lord's work. Perhaps He had something in mind for her as well.

A/N: Sorry about taking so long to update. Moving takes a lot longer than I thought it would. But fear not, I'm still good with this story, it's going right where I want it to. Keep reading, keep reviewing. This story's for you! If there's anything you think should be changed/improved, I'd love to hear from you :) Something to think about for next chapter? Where is Dolly?


	4. Down to the Bottom

**A/N Well, I'm back. I'm not going to lie, I've been through some rough things these past couple months, and I had all but forgotten this story. But reviews from my favorite fans, Life'sKerfluffle and Sci F.I. Warper, have renewed my spirits and my plans for this story. Fear not, I will not abandon, so help me God!**

Here he sat, alone and miserable. Friends were dead. He had no work. No prospects. Just solitude and silence. It was enough to drive even the strongest mind insane. Why didn't he just end it?

It's not like he didn't try. The pills. The booze. The knife. Every time he tried, something stopped him. He couldn't even commit suicide properly. He was a failure, a coward, a loser. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. That's why he became a recluse, making sure to burn down any bridges leading him back to his former life. He was nothing, and that's how he wanted it to stay. He poured himself what must have been the 27th shot of the night. There was a loud thud as he fell to the ground, unconscious, shot glass rolling from his fingertips onto the middle of the floor.

"Jeez, Dolly. What the hell happened to you?" Dolly fidgeted a bit. He was expecting the wave of nausea and the screeching headache to set in, but it never did. He tried to open his eyes a bit, but it was still too bright. All he could make out was the silhouette of a person standing above him. He tried blinking over and over again, willing his eyes to adjust to the light so he could see who this man was. He recognized his voice from somewhere…

"Dolly, stop winking at me. You look like a drunken one-eyed pirate hooker."

"Who the hell are you!" Dolly's mind was reeling. It couldn't be him. He was dead. Dolly was the first on the scene. The one to pronounce him dead. This voice couldn't belong to his friend.

"Haha, easy there. I know it's tough, but try to hold in your enthusiasm. It's not every day that someone gets visited by a dead person."

Dolly's eyes shot open. Sure enough, Greenly's face was smiling back down at him. He just sat there for a minute, taking it in. Then, he punched him.

"OW! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!" Greenly held his hand to his nose, a steady stream of curses flowing from his lips. Dolly slowly made his way up and stared at the man before him. It was Greenly, all right. Thick Boston accent and all.

"Sorry, reaction. What the hell are you doing here? You're dead."

"Way to state the obvious, asshole." Greenly rubbed his nose a couple times, tears stinging his eyes from the pain. "I'm here because you're needed. We can't have you sitting on your ass every day doing nothing. You're part of something. Something huge, and you still have quite a roll to play in it."

"No way. No fuckin way." Dolly turned, shaking her head. There was no way he was getting involved again. "I'm done with that. The boys are locked up, no chance of getting out. Our lives are ruined because of their little 'mission from God.' It's a load of shit."

"Dolly, I understand you feel that way. But do you think I died for nothing? What about that dude, Rocco? He was the boys' best friend. He's gone too. When you're doing something as important as this, loss is necessary. I'm not gonna sit here and tell ya that I'm fuckin pleased to be here, but I was part of something. Something greater than myself. And so are you. So is Duffy. So are the boys and Bloom and Smecker. You just gotta have faith."

Dolly shook his head, tears falling from his eyes. "Faith in what?"

Greenly walked over and place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Faith in yourself and what you were called to do."

Dolly chuckled a bit to himself, wiping his eyes. "Since when did you become fuckin Ghandi?"

"Shut your face, I'm all wise and enlightened and shit now." Greenly smacked him upside the head.

Dolly laughed harder. This was what he missed most. Greenly making an ass of himself. Those nights the three of them spent drinking and messing with Doc. Those were some of the best memories of his entire life. "I miss you."

"Oh, now you're going to go all sentimental on me? What a pansy." Greenly laughed. He was just kidding, of course. He felt the exact same way. "Okay, down to business. The boys need you. Duffy needs you. In fact, he's probably already on his way to your house. Be ready for anything. I gotta go now. Take care of yourself."

With that, Greenly patted Dolly on the shoulder a couple times and then turned to walk away. Dolly hated to watch him go. He had so much to ask him. Suddenly, something Greenly had said struck a chord with him. How did he not realize it before.

"Wait, did you say Smecker earlier? As in Paul 'queer as a $3 bill' Smecker?" No way. No fuckin way was he alive. Dolly had been there. Sure it was a closed casket, but that was to be expected…

"Haha, yeah Dolly. Don't worry your pretty little head over it. He'll find you, trust me. Be ready." He smirked and did a little two-finger salute. "See ya around, Fuckface."

Dolly suddenly opened his eyes. They struggled open like before. Thankfully it wasn't as bright here. He did notice that there was someone standing above him yet again. He slowly rose to his feet, hangover in full effect now.

"Thank God! I thought you were gone. What the hell have you been doing to yourself?"

Dolly chuckled to himself. He HAD been a wreck. But now it was different. Life suddenly seemed clear. He knew what to do with it now. He smiled at his friend and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Duffy, how's it going? Green-beans says hi."


	5. Reunions Across the World

**A/N: Hey all, back again. This college stuff is hard, but I'm trying to keep up with this story the best I can. That being said, I think it's time for someone to wake up…**

The boys were growing restless. They had spent weeks in the hospital wing, waiting for their partner to wake up. Romeo's condition was growing better, but he was still unconscious. This had them worried, especially Murphy.

"What the hell is takin' so long? Shouldn't he be up by now?" Murphy was pacing back and forth in front of Romeo's bed. Their injuries were all but healed now. Only a few bruises and scars remained. That was kind of remarkable if you consider the shape they were in when they were taken.

"Murph, just give it time. He'll come round when he's ready." Connor was just trying to be optimistic. In reality he was just as worried. You didn't have to be a genius to know that being in a coma for an extended amount of time was a bad thing. Romeo hadn't as much as moved in the past few days. All that showed signs of life were the steady beeps emitting from the machines next to him and the slow rise and fall of his chest thanks to his breathing machine.

"I'm tired of fuckin' waitin' here. What if he doesn't come back, huh? What if he's fuckin' stu—"

Murphy couldn't finish his sentence. He was interrupted by a sudden fit of coughing coming from the cot in front of him. Apparently, Romeo had decided to come back. The boys frantically started running around the room, unsure of what to do. Meanwhile, Romeo continued to choke on the breathing apparatus that was shoved down his throat.

"What the hell is going on here?" Chris, the guard, had just barged in the room. The boys immediately crowded him, jabbering on about something he couldn't understand.

"Shut the fuck up! Now, one at a time, what—"

"Use your fuckin' ears, ya dumb bastard! Romeo's choking! Get a doctor! Get someone!"

Chris then turned his attention to the man in the bed. Sure enough, he was coughing and heaving in his bed. Chris turned and ran down the hall to the doctor's office. The boys followed, making sure he went straight there and then making sure the doctor ran as fast as he could back to the med ward. The doctor first shot Romeo in the arm with a sedative. As he began to settle, the doctor removed the breathing tube and oxygen tank. He checked some more of Romeo's vitals, stated that he was on the mend and then left. Chris went back to his post, and that left the boys with their semi-conscious friend.

"Sup, guys? How long was I out?" Murphy smiled for the first time in a long time.

"You were out for a solid month. Way to give us a heart attack, you dumb spic."

"Holy shit! Are you kidding me? What the – " He tried to sit up, but the sedative was working it's magic and he fell right back on the bed again. "Ugh, what the hell did they give me? I'm gonna hurl."

Connor grabbed a trashcan and placed it just in time to catch the contents of Romeo's stomach as they made their way out his mouth. "You can hold more liquor than any other man I know, but one little shot and you've gone all wopsy."

"Shut up, man. I've been down and out for a fuckin' month! Give me a break."

"What happened to all the 'pound-for-pound toughest mother fucka's 'round' shit? Not so tough now, are ya?" By now, Connor was laughing and Romeo's heart rate was going through the roof. Murphy finally stepped in.

"Would you both just stop? Maybe ya haven't noticed, but this isn't exactly the Pru. We're in the fuckin' Hoag, and we need to figure out how we're gonna get out. Now Rom—" Unfortunately he was too late. The sedative had completely kicked in and he was out.

"Well, isn't that fuckin' convenient."

Meanwhile, Eunice Bloom was half way around the world on her knees. Father Corrigan had definitely gotten her thinking about some things. There's no way she could question if there was a God now. The boys' success with those crappily put together plans would convince the strongest Atheist that there was a greater power looking out for them. Now, she had to figure out what her true place was in all of this. She was never much for prayer, but it felt necessary at the moment. She couldn't explain why.

"God, I'm not very good at this whole 'praying' thing, but we need to talk. I know you have a plan for this whole thing, but I'm failing to see what the big picture is. Which is bad for me because usually I could figure things out before Paul. Anyways, help me to just see the next step. And keep my boys safe. I don't like them in there and the sooner You can help us get them out, the better. Amen."

"Amen." Eunice shot up and retrieved her firearm from its holster around her hips and pointed it at the voice behind her. The two figures just sat there staring at each other for a moment. Then she slowly lowered her weapon and approached the man before her.

"That was quick." Eunice smiled.

Duffy chuckled to himself. "Yeah, the priest had all of our paperwork already ready to go. We just had to get on the plane. Pretty convenient."

"Yeah, they're pretty organized in that way. It's like they know you're coming even before you do. Anyways, where's the other one?"

"Dolly? He's in his room. Passed out after Smecker opened the door. Guess he didn't believe me when I told him that Paul was alive. Oh well, he'll come around here in a couple of hours. Anyways, we need to talk. I know this is going to sound crazy, but David came to me and Dolly in a dream. I'm not even fuckin' with you Eunice, it was the weirdest thing. But he gave us an idea, and I think with your help, we can have the boys out by Thanksgiving."

"Wait, you've had the dream too?" Duffy looked at Eunice, shocked. Then he smiled.

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised. He probably visited you first. God knows he just wanted to-. Oh, sorry. I'm so fuckin' stupid, Eunice. I'm sorry." He began apologizing profusely when he saw the tears running from her eyes, but she waved him off.

"Don't worry about it. It happens." After she wiped her eyes carefully, so as to not smudge her makeup, she looked back at Duffy. "Paul and I had the same one as well. Let's go find that fairy and get to work." With that, she turned on her heels and started walking down the hall, Duffy following right behind.


End file.
